


When I'm 264

by axolotlparty



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Inspired by Music, No Romance, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axolotlparty/pseuds/axolotlparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian reflects on his life's experiences at age 228. I know, the title says 264, but I was trying to go with the Beatles song "When I'm 64". I swear, it's nothing but a happy ball of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm 264

Julian Bashir lounged on one of the couches on the observation deck. There wasn’t much to see halfway between the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies, and there wouldn’t be for another week or so. He was going to Andromeda more as a diplomat than a Starfleet medical officer, as he had been in Starfleet for 200 years. Oh, he’d tried to retire but it was just so horribly _boring_. He didn’t quite have the energy he used to, but he wasn’t about to give up and open a vacation injury clinic on Risa just yet. He’d been through two wars with the Dominion, three with the Borg, the brief yet bloody fall of the Kazon Empire, and the destruction of Romulus. But it hadn’t been all bad. He signed the accords that got Cardassia into the Federation, made a better treatment for removing Borg implants, served as head of the asylum (now rehabilitation facility and assisted living center) for genetically-enhanced humans, married thrice, adopted a grand total of 8 children, and as of two weeks ago, he has 154 living family members. He thinks. It’s easy to lose track of things at 228 years old, even when you’re genetically enhanced.

“Excuse me, are you Admiral Bashir” A nervous, young, J’naii ensign asked.

“It’s Doctor Bashir, thank you, and yes I am. Did somebody get hurt?” He turned and asked.

“No. It’s just that the Observation deck is going to be closed soon. Captain Dax told me to tell you that you have to go back to your quarters right now or else you won’t get enough sleep for tomorrow.” The ensign said. Bashir heard xis pulse quickening with every word. He checked his PADD.

“Tell Nirlock that I’m too old for his little jokes. It’s 14:00 and if he wants me off this couch he can lift my ass off of it himself. And tell him that his spots are awfully small this time around, while you’re at it.” Julian grinned as he spoke.

“Oh, come off it Julian. Stop scaring the ensigns. Emmeth, you are dismissed back to the bridge.”

The young J’naii made ximself scarce, leaving the two old friends alone in each other’s company. The young man sat next to the old one and stared at the void with him between where they’d been and what was yet to come.

“My spots are perfectly sized this time, thank you very much.” Nirlock boasted.

“If they were, there’d be no need to point it out.” Julian retorted.

Nirlock rolled his eyes. There was a pause.

“Can you believe they’re sending us out to another galaxy? I never even dreamed we’d make it out of our own very far.” Nirlock said. He crossed his legs and gazed at the tiny dot out the window like a child.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Julian asked.

Nirlock smiled at him. “You’re never going to get old, are you?” he asked.

Julian laughed.” Who do you think you’re kidding? I’m the third oldest person I know, next to you and Odo.

“At least _we_ had enough maturity not to volunteer for this mission. I was essentially drafted and he ran off back to the Great Link. Something about if he wanted to see the Andromeda galaxy, he could morph himself into something that would get him there in an hour. What a _ch’evitko_.”

“You don’t really believe all that rubbish about us not being able to come back, or we’ll be killed on first contact or something stupid like that, do you?” the old man lamented.

“I don’t believe them per se, but there is some credit to it. These people could be having the most brutal war we could ever record. We could die within a hundred thousand light-years of our arrival. Even worse, there could be absolutely nothing but stars and empty planets and we’d crash into a moon just to kill ourselves out of boredom.”

“Or, they could be so technologically advanced, they will have predicted our arrival to the microsecond and they’ll have a huge feast set up for us and we’ll all get along and they’ll fix our wormhole generator and we’ll be back in time for all the good First Contact Day parties. Oh, did I tell you that Kirayoshi’s great-grandson gets to be Zephram Cochrane in his school’s play? I can’t believe how bent out of shape the PTA got when a Betazoid hybrid got to play a human character. I told his parents that he needed to go to school somewhere a bit more multispecies than on Luna City, but do you think they listened to me? No. They’re not Starfleet officers, but they could still transfer anywhere in the galaxy. Both of his mothers happen to be public transportation coordinators and-“

“Julian you’re rambling.” Nirlock interrupted.

“You’re right. I ought to be going to bed soon anyway. Care to join me in the mess for a nightcap? I know you’ve got a few bottles of Romulan ale stowed away in there from your millennial birthday.” Julian got up with some effort.

“You think you’re so damn special.” Dax hopped up from his crisscross position.

“I am.” Julian led the way out of the observation deck, a nostalgic smile drawn on his sagging face.


End file.
